Alas, My Love
by boonadducious
Summary: This is a sequel to my previous story, Betrayal. Clark faces an even more powerful supernatural enemy, and must make a great sacrifice for the one he loves. TC
1. Prologue

**Title**: Alas, My Love

**Author**: Ashley, Boonadducious, whatever you want to call me.

**Disclaimers**: I don't even own a car, how can I possibly own these characters?

**Rating**: PG-13 to R

**Spoilers**: None that I know of. Reckoning perhaps.

**A/N**: As I said in the title, this is a sequel to _Betrayal_. I really suggest reading that before reading this. That story had some religious subtext, and this story is going to have a whole lot more. A while ago, I pretty much took it upon myself to create a sort of mythology from the world of angels and demons from a Christian perspective. I'm pretty sure that most of it is not really out there, but I think that it is very interesting to speculate before we know for sure. I'm using my mythology in a series of books I'm starting to write, and I figured that a Betrayal sequel would be the perfect place to try it out in a public domain. I just wanted to warn you guys that at times it might get pretty intense. So yah, that's my two cents. Enjoy!

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_"Try to exclude the possibility of suffering which the order of nature and the existence of free-wills involve, and you find that you have excluded life itself."_

_--C.S. Lewis in_ The Problem of Pain

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**Prologue**

Clark never usually felt the cold from the Fortress of Solitude, but in this seemingly endless night, his invulnerability might as well have been non-existent. He simply stood there still as a statue with an unkept sport coat on and a small Kryptonian crystal in his numb hands. Tears were beginning to trickle down his cheeks as he stared at the silver floor in disbelief about what was happening. He had failed. Why did he fail? After all that he had been through with this man, why was he gone?

"Kal-el?" Clark's biological father bellowed, shaking the crystal structure.

"There has to be a way you can save him!" Clark shouted, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. "You saved Lana! How can you…"

"Kal-el!" Jor-el shouted, almost overwhelming Clark's ears. "You made a choice to save the human girl you loved, and I allowed you. However, that did not mean the deal was forgotten. Besides, if you had distanced yourself from this race in the first place and realized their inferiority, the girl would have meant nothing to you and Jonathan Kent would still be alive."

Clark was beginning to show his growing anger through his tensing muscles and grinding teeth. How dare Jor-el blame him for this? It was him who insisted on taking the life of someone he loved. It was him who drove him into the arms of humans in the first place. If he had been more of a father, then Kryptonians might have been more appealing.

"Kal-el," Jor-el boomed in a lighter tone.

"My name is Clark!" he shouted in a cracked voice.

Ignoring his outburst, Jor-el used a slightly frightened voice to say, "Where did that woman come from? I did not see you bring her here."

Confused, Clark turned his head toward the icy bed on which his comatose father was placed. Over him, there was a woman dressed in white with her eyes fixed upon the unmoving farmer. She had curly brown hair draped around her shoulders and icy blue eyes that could send chills through your body when looking upon them. Clark knew this because he had looked into those eyes before.

"Aelora?" Clark whispered, his jaw trembling. He had no idea what he was feeling at the moment he saw her. He had not seen this woman's face in more than a year, and part of him was happy about that. Her face was the one he saw during most of his imprisonment inside a cult's dungeon enduring torture from a brainwashed congregation. It was also the face that Clark remembered when he recalled seeing his first angel.

It was the very fact that he gazed upon her face that opened the door to all of the otherworldly things he had seen in the past year and a half. Every time he faced a meteor freak or any dark person, Lex for one, he could see dark shadows creeping behind them. Those same shadows appeared when Chloe used immoral methods at her new job at the Daily Planet and when he saw anyone making leering eyes at others. Even though there were occasions when he saw light emanating off people, the shadows seemed to rule, particularly in Smallville.

The thing that frustrated Clark the most was that he didn't know how to fight them. When he saw evil, he needed to confront it. That was his nature. However, this new gift was like the carrot that dangles in front of you that you can never reach. It was like emotional torture. It didn't really affect his daily life, but seeing new shadows in his cursed town always brought the feelings of frustration back. Seeing this beautiful angel now had the same effect.

Clark used his shaky legs to come nearer to where his lifeless father lay in order to confront his old friend. He found it odd that even though he had spent a very long time in her presence before, he still had a sense of awe when approaching her. In the year and a half since the horrible ordeal that led him to this being, he figured even a small piece of holiness was enough to make any human shiver, mostly because it was the opposite of what they were usually exposed to.

"He says he doesn't want you to be sad," Aelora cooed when Clark was a few feet away from the crystal slab. In response to her words, Clark's eyes shot up to meet her baby blues and his breath began to speed up.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Nice to see you again, too, Clark," Aelora said sarcastically.

"I wish it was under different circumstances," the boy sighed, his breath wavering.

"I know, and I'm sure that you don't want to hear this, but this was the plan, and that means it is for the best."

"But Aelora," Clark cried, his tear ducts about to burst. "Me and my dad just started to get a normal relationship again. And…and what about my little sister! She's only one year old! Why should she have to grow up without a father!"

"Anna Joy will be fine, Clark," Aelora sighed, frustrated by the boy's distrust. "She has you."

"But I'm not her dad. I'm just her brother. I mean, I'm sure that my mom is strong enough to take her on, but what if I'm not strong enough to be a father-figure on top of everything else?"

"Look, if I were in your position I would probably say the same thing, but you have to trust me. It was your father's time to go."

"No it wasn't! I still need him!" Clark shouted before running over to his father's lifeless form and throwing his arms around it before unleashing many long-repressed sobs.

Clark was surprised when Aelora met his outburst with silence, but he would not have cared anyway. He was too busy going through deep mourning to care what his former friend had to say.

"Clark," Aelora said with putting her warm hand on his shaking back. "Your father says that he has enough trouble breathing without you squeezing his trachea."

As if robotically, Clark's head rose and his sobbing ceased. His wet eyes met Aelora's before he also looked down at Jonathan's dead expression.

"Clark, the trachea."

Immediately, Clark released his vice-grip on the farmer's torso in order to allow him to breathe.

"How do you do that?"

"I can speak to his spirit, even when his physical body is too weak to do anything. Of course, you already knew that. You just hate being speechless."

"Who are you now, Sigmund Freud?"

Aelora laughed, even though Clark clearly didn't find it funny. "You got it from your dad," she said. "It's not a bad trait."

The angel was satisfied when she finally got a smile out of the boy, not caring if it was small.

"So," Clark sighed. "Can he hear me?"

"Of course he can. He has a few minutes left, so I'll allow you to say goodbye. But after that, I have to take him."

Clark was quite relieved that his father was not completely gone yet. However, it was bitter sweet since these moments would be the very last. What would he say? How would he act? What if he said the wrong thing?

"You look a little better now, Clark," Aelora said happily. "Jonathan was upset by how hysterical you were. He wanted you to be okay."

The boy nodded before wiping away a few stray tears from his eyes. He then sniffed and sighed before slipping his hand underneath that of his father.

"It's cold," Clark said in monotone.

"Well, we are in the North Pole," Aelora laughed. After a stare from Clark she said, "His words, not mine."

"Yeah, that sounds like dad." The boy paused before saying, "Does he know that I love him?"

"More than you will ever know."

Clark's smile grew before he said, "Does he know I'm sorry for causing this?"

"Okay, he wants me to say this loudly. You. Did. Not. Cause. This. It wasn't your fault that you got shot and it wasn't your fault that Jor-el's AI used demonic influences to manipulate the Plan to his advantage…that's just between you and me by the way."

"A-alright," Clark said, overwhelmed. "But it was my fault that I lost my powers, and…"

"Oh, you're absolutely right, Clark. It's all your fault."

"H-huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, Jor-el did give you a detailed list of consequences of what would happen if you didn't return to this icebox. Also, you did get a nice little slideshow of exactly what would happen if…"

"Alright! Alright!" Clark shouted while throwing his hands up in the air. "I get it. There was no way I could have known. But I still feel responsible. I just want to know that he forgives me."

"Oh, I didn't even need to ask him to tell you that, even though there is really no forgiveness needed."

Clark smiled once again before sighing as a small twinge of peace began to enter his heart. He figured that Aelora's little logic lesson shook him up a little bit to be able to accept it. Even though protest seemed to be a theme of this visit to the Fortress, and though that statement didn't differ from the others, there was still something in it that let Clark know he and his father were ready to part ways. He knew that he would never feel ready, but for that brief moment, his spirit told him otherwise.

"Thanks Dad," the boy whispered. "For everything."

"He says…he says you're very welcome…but he has one important thing to say to you."

"Really? What is it?"

"He says…" Aelora's expression suddenly changed as she began to process what the farmer's spirit told her.

"Aelora?" Clark asked while becoming slightly concerned.

"B-beware the bull."

"Beware the what?"

"That's what he said," Aelora said, confused.

"Well, what does that mean? I don't think he ever mentioned anything like that to me."

"I don't think so either, Clark. I have a feeling your dad might have gotten a little prophetic word."

"Prophetic word? You mean my dad's a prophet? That's not possible. I've read about prophets. They…"

"I know, Clark, and you're right," the angel said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "He's not a prophet, at least not officially. Small prophetic words often come to people close to death. However, I'm a little fuzzy as to what this particular one means."

"_A little_ fuzzy?" Clark asked. "Does that mean you at least have a small idea about what he's talking about?"

"Yeah," Aelora said with a concerned look on her face. "But what I think it means doesn't make much sense. I mean, at least I hope it doesn't."

"Why?" Clark uttered gravely.

"Well, maybe it has something to do with Lex Luthor, or…"

"I'm already wary of him," Clark interrupted, a little detached. "I doubt my dad would warn me about something I'm already doing."

"Okay, but you have to…"

"Just stop," the exhausted Clark said while holding up his hand. "It's been a long night. I really don't want to deal with spiritual stuff right now. I'll know what he's talking about eventually. Right now, I just want to spend these next few minutes with my dad without worrying about all of this."

"I…I understand," Aelora said softly, although concerned about her friend's quick change in attitude. "However, I hope that you don't forget about this for long. You have a gift, and you have a responsibility to…"

"Aelora," the boy said, firmer this time. "Can I just spend this time with my dad before he's gone completely?"

The angel slowly hung her head before nodding and stepping backwards and letting the boy kneel at his father's deathbed. She may have been hurt by the dismissal, but she wasn't worried. The angel knew that this complacency was only a front. Clark knew what his responsibility was. Even if the specifics of his destiny were still a blur, he knew what was meant for him, and it was certainly more than the normal human experience.

As Aelora prepared to return home with Jonathan Kent's spirit in tow, she began to feel the dark presence in the room, and how frightened it was. She figured it was mostly coming from the evil legion that resided inside the Fortress' artificial intelligence, thought she could tell many others followed the boy into his icy retreat. The angel knew that this moment would begin this boy's path to become the hero he was destined to be. That would not only mean a stronger resolve from him as soon as mourning was over, but also a greater attack from the enemy as the years went by. They had failed once, but being the foolish scabs they were, they would continue trying like they had a chance of winning. Even though the outcome would be worth the struggle, it was the road leading to it that made her scared for the boy her Father loved so much.

"Be careful, Beloved," the angel whispered, even though the message rang loud and clear in the receiver's ears.

"I will," Clark whispered back, right before laying his forehead on the stomach of his departing father. "So help me God."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Four Years Later_

It was morning when clouds began to gather over the sleepy town of Smallville. They were not black clouds, but they were dark enough to merit warning. This fact was only hastened by a cutting wind that periodically graced itself upon the landscape, slicing through any living being that dared cross its path.

Mornings like this were not rare, but the citizens of the Kansas town felt different about this one in particular. Some of them dismissed it as jitters over the nearing tornado season. Others just thought that the recent surge of hate crimes both here and in Metropolis were making them fear the worst about everything. However, many citizens found it hard to brush off the horrible feelings they were having about the weather, and the sight of the sky didn't help matters.

The clouds seemed to be in a slow rotation around one point in the town, even though it was so subtle that it could be easily missed with the naked eye. The eye of this storm was unmoving, as if it was watching over a spot preparing to drop a funnel cloud on top of it. The center was over a very unlikely place, the red-brick home of a pre-school.

The many bodies inside the tiny building were unaware of their favor when it came to the weather. In fact, they could not be acting more normal. Contained within the aging building was several classrooms filled with excited children eager to learn their ABCs and 123s. Many of them bounced and grinned as their teachers flipped the pages of abnormally large books or helped them learn fun songs. However, one of the classrooms in the center of the hall had a very different environment to it.

There was silence.

When one would walk into this room, it would not look unusual to anyone. It was adorned with beautiful posters of landscapes with encouraging words on it, as well as silk flowers pinned in random places. Also, just like any other classroom, there were immature pictures of various animals displayed proudly.

In the center of the small room sat a round white rug, and on the top edge was a woman. She was adorned in a colorful sleeveless dress that, if she were standing, would go down to her ankles. On the rug, she was seated Indian style with her hands on her knees and her eyes closed.

Around the remaining circumference of the rug, about ten children sat as still as statues. Even though a few of them were in a slight stir crazy state, most of them were quiet and unmoving.

"Okay, children," the teacher said. "Now keep your thoughts away from this world. Focus on another world. The world inside your own hearts."

"Mmmm," the children responded with closed eyes.

"Anna Joy," the teacher said in a drawn-out manner. "I didn't hear your voice."

"Mmm," responded a tiny girl with shiny strawberry blonde hair and the smile of a porcelain doll.

Unlike the other children, her eyes were closed very tightly. She was sitting on her hands so that they would not distract her from her goal, and her legs were crossed to best imitate what her teacher was doing. Ms. Grant said that doing this was the only way to stay out of trouble during the day, and she was eager to stay out of trouble. Mommy said that if she had to have one more conference with the teacher, then she would have her TV taken away for a month.

"Find your place, children," the woman continued. "Find your own little place where you don't have to hide who you are. Where you can be free."

Anna Joy joined the other kids in taking a deep sigh before finally feeling her spirit disconnect from the world.

"Hello?" the little girl called out as she sat in a seemingly endless meadow covered with soft pink grass looked upon by a clear blue sky housing a large orange sun. In her trance, she could almost feel the soft rays warming her skin as well as the soft grass cushioning her small body. It was peaceful. It was always peaceful. However, it was lonely. No matter how many times she ran and played in this land of her creation, it was worthless without someone to share it with. She often asked Ms. Grant if she could one day share it with her Mama or brother, but her teacher urged her not to. She said they would never understand the need to be free from the world.

"Over here," called out a deep voice from within the grass.

Anna's mind was jerked out of her thoughts when she looked over to where the voice was coming from. Out of the meadow came what looked like a green pillow before a pair of eyes appeared. The girl stood up to get a better look, and noticed stitches around the white irises that were emerging. This thing was a stuffed animal; a living one at that. A better look revealed that it was some sort of lizard.

"It's good to finally meet you," the creature said as a smile formed on what Anna Joy could see of his face.

"E-excuse me. Who are you?" the girl asked.

"I'm Nene," the lizard said, sticking his head fully out of the grass. "What's your name?"

The girl began to back away a bit and play with her hands at the question. She was beginning to get a bad feeling about this for some reason. Usually when she went here in the mornings, there were no creatures visiting her. Some of the other kids said they saw little animals in their "mind meadows", as Ms. Grant called them, but she never did. After all of those other kids saw the animals, they always acted different. It was as if they were happier and more carefree, at least in the classroom. Anna Joy had always hoped to meet a special person in there, maybe even her daddy. Now that she had seen someone, she wasn't as excited as she thought she'd be.

"What's the matter," the stranger asked. "I won't bite. I'm your friend. Why don't you tell me your name?"

"M-my name's Anna Joy Elizabeth Kent," she stammered out, still playing with her hands.

"Hello, Anna Joy. Do you want to know a secret?"

A secret? Anna Joy hated secrets, both keeping and sharing them. Her mommy once told her that her brother had a really big secret, but she would know about it when she was older. That fact frustrated her, so she decided she would prove to Mommy that she was the best secret keeper in the world. This was simply another opportunity to prove that point.

"Yeah," the girl whispered, drawing closer.

The lizard smiled and used one of his front feet to pull a handful of pink grass out of the ground and hold it out toward her. "Take one," he bellowed. "It tastes good."

"You want me to eat grass?" Anna Joy asked with a face of disgust.

"Trust me," Nene replied.

The little girl simply sighed and reluctantly took a blade of the grass in between her small fingers before sniffing it. It was a pleasant surprise that cherry filled her nostrils, so she decided to lick it. It was like a cherry Starburst, her favorite.

"See, I told ya," the lizard laughed. "Wanna eat some more with me?"

As she and Nene sat and ate the candy-flavored grass together, Anna Joy saw another disturbance in the grass. Her eyes widened as she saw whatever it was coming closer.

"Don't be scared," Nene laughed after noticing her fright. "That's just Gus."

Almost as soon as he said that, the rustling stopped and a large brown thing popped out of the grass, startling Anna Joy to drop her candy on the floor. However, after she saw this creature was another stuffed animal, this time a big brown dog, she began to giggle.

"I can't believe you gave away my hiding place, Nene," Gus said in a whiny voice. "I wanted to play with Anna."

"Anna _Joy_," the girl corrected before laughing again.

"Oh, I know," the newcomer laughed in a higher voice than Nene, but deep nonetheless. "It's just easier to say 'Anna'. You know what I mean, right?"

The child nodded before asking, "Are you a new friend, too?"

"Well, what else would I be?" the dog laughed. "You're a very special girl, Anna Joy. Unlike the other kids in your class, you get two friends instead of just one."

"Really?" the girl giggled as a large smile stretched across her face.

"Really really," the lizard behind her bellowed. "We're all going to be the best friends there ever were."

By now, Anna Joy was jumping up and down and clapping her hands with excitement. Gus let out a small bark to get her attention before crouching down closer to the ground. The girl excitedly ran over and jumped on the dog's back.

"Are you ready to play?" Gus asked as he rose to his feet.

Anna Joy nodded and the dog scampered off into the land beyond with the lizard following close behind.

"Chloe! I need to talk to you!"

Out from the endless sea of cubicles that made up the temporary centerfold for all of the head reporters at the _Daily Planet_ came a pair of eyes that rested under curled blonde bangs and a small forehead. She scanned the large room as well as the stairs leading to the balcony-like second floor. She ended up spotting the beet-red face of the spectacled Clark Kent next to the bottom of the stairs.

Chloe Sullivan let out a long sigh before slipping back into her office chair. She used her foot to turn the chair back and forth while waiting for her friend's almost daily visit to her cube. It seemed like only seconds before all six feet and four inches of her friend was right in front of her, anger emanating off him like steam. She hated the fact that now that Clark worked in the same building as her, he was suddenly her morality police.

"What's this about?" Clark shouted, holding up yesterday's edition of the _Daily Planet._

"Clark, I thought you would be happy," Chloe laughed as she got back to her work. Even as she turned her head, she knew that those familiar angry eyes were staring at her. "So I'm guessing the 'death stare' is a new power you've gained."

"Chloe, for several months now I've just thought you were a little over the top, but now you've crossed the line. I can't believe that you would throw out your journalistic ethics for this piece of trash!" the man said before throwing the paper on her desk.

"Hey, I didn't throw out anything," she sternly said. "Joseph Stein killed that gay man because of the teachings of his pastor. It was about time someone …"

"The pastor didn't tell him to kill anybody!" Clark interrupted.

"He might as well have," Chloe said slowly, getting annoyed with her friend. "He taught homosexuality was a sin."

"So? It's in the Bible! Besides, just because you believe someone commits a sin doesn't mean you're going to go out and kill them! Most Christians say we're all sinners."

"I'm afraid that most of the country disagrees, my friend."

"Since when do I care about that?" Clark sighed. "Besides, that same pastor talked a whole lot more about loving your neighbor than anything else."

"Oh, I see you've done your homework, Kent. I mean, I knew you didn't trust me but I didn't know how far it went."

"Chloe…it's not that."

"Yeah, right," Chloe laughed while nervously holding her cell phone and flipping it. "I know you too well, Clark."

"Look, you should have been the one to do that homework. You know how hostel Metropolis is right now toward this stuff, partly because of you blaming churches for all of the recent hate crimes. You're going to destroy this man's life!"

"One down, several million to go." The blonde laughed.

The spectacled man didn't know what to say. He felt like he had said all he could to his good friend over the past few years, but it was to no avail. After she had helped save him from near death six years ago, she had changed. At first, she began to cling to him like her life depended on it, but after she got promoted at the Daily Planet, she focused her energies on the world in general. Clark figured that after he got his own job at the Planet last year it would help, but it didn't. It was like she was on a crusade and wouldn't stop until her heart was eased.

"Look, I know you were traumatized by what happened to me, but you can't go out destroying church after church."

"Well, someone has to do it since those…people scared you into submission."

Clark closed his eyes and rubbed his temple so that he could keep his temper in check. "Chloe, I am not opposing you because of something like that. I don't blame the church as a whole for what happened to me."

"Hey, you can deny your Stockholm Syndrome all you want, Clark, but I'm going to keep on doing these stories until you get over yourself and realize those people are not our friends! I just wish this country could get a clue and realize organized religion hurts more than it helps."

"Chloe, I wish you could get a clue and admit what this is really about," Clark sighed before clearing a corner of Chloe's desk for him to sit on. "Me and my parents were kidnapped by _one_ tyrannical reverend, not the Pope! You're just looking for someone to blame and fight against when there really is not point. I'm dealing with what happened in a healthy way. You changed your entire personality!"

"It's called being a good journalist," Chloe growled, getting quite annoyed.

"You don't to be a total bitch to be a good journalist, Chloe. I mean, look at me. Look at Lois. She…"

"Don't talk about what it takes to do my job!" Chloe shouted, clearly at the edge of a tantrum. "I've been working here for four and a half years to get where I am! The only reason that you're here is because of your history with Perry White and the only reason Lois is here is because she flashed a boob during her interview."

"Hey," the man shouted. "She did nothing of the sort!"

"She might as well have," Chloe said under her breath as she put her head back down toward her computer. "I'm not surprised that you're defending her, you know. I see the way you look at her."

"You better be glad she's on assignment today," Clark sighed, attempting to ignore her ridiculous suggestion. "Besides, you know what you're saying isn't true. Lois and I have grown up since college. I've pulled my weight around here and earned my place. Lois has, too, even more so that me. You really have no right to say those things about us."

Chloe opened her mouth to say something, but ended up taking a deep breath and turning her face away from her friend once again.

"I hate when you do that, you know," Clark said in an elevated voice. Unfortunately it was to no avail. Chloe started typing on her computer, and Clark became internally irate at how his friend was acting. All he did was let out an angry grunt and leave the woman to herself.

Once he got back to his own cubicle, the man plopped back down onto his soft office chair and slipped his fingers through his wavy locks. He didn't know what he was going to do about his friend. She had completely flipped her lid. She didn't even go through anything half as bad as he did, and yet she was taking it twice as hard. Clark didn't even want to imagine what it would have been like if the situation was reversed. He didn't know if it was because she was a woman or what, but it scared him to death.

A vibration at his side stirred him from his thoughts and he felt around his hip for his cell phone. He let out a sigh of relief when he looked at the screen that read "HOME." He always enjoyed receiving calls from his mother or sister. They always seemed to come when he needed them the most.

"Clark, its Mom," said the voice on the other side of the line after he put the device to his ear.

"Hey Mom!" Clark said happily. "I hope that you've had a better day than I've had."

"Well, that's not the reason I'm calling." Martha uttered in a scared tone.

Clark's stomach dropped to his feet as he took in her tone. He knew exactly what her demeanor meant.

"Is it Anna Joy?" Clark asked, frightened.

"Yeah," Martha sighed. "I think something's wrong with her."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Saturday afternoons were never this quiet. Martha Kent knew it. She had been a mother for so many years that she had come to expect the final day of the week to be full of hyperactivity and excitement without fail. If there was a dull Saturday, something was off. Way off.

Even without Clark in the house, the mother's Saturdays were always more active, mostly due to her young daughter. However, in recent days Anna Joy's personality began to change. Her normally playful spirit was beginning to give way to a more reserved state. She was never a bad kid, but she did misbehave. Not more than any other kid, though.

The woman knew her daughter was upset about her beloved teacher dying in an accident two months ago, but she seemed to be doing fine in recent weeks. She liked the replacement the school put in and her grades never changed. However, there was always something missing after Mrs. Lewis died, and lately it seemed to be filled with something Martha didn't like.

She became so worried about this one day that she actually called her son, Clark, in Metropolis about her concerns. This was after Anna Joy made a very odd picture in class of all her family member's heads on animal bodies while she was still human and flying in the sky. Even though it would seem harmless to other people, Martha had been through enough in her life to know when something was odd. Something was definitely odd.

The familiar squeaking of the aged stairs alerted her to the fact that Anna Joy had finally woken up and was coming down the stairs to get her breakfast.

"Good morning, mommy!" cried the little girl as she ran toward the door.

"Wait a second, young lady," Martha called before catching up with her. "Where are you going without eating breakfast?"

"Aaron and Amy Sherman are gonna be here any minute, and I have to wait for them outside."

"Sweetie, I know about your play date, but I think you should at least get something in your tummy before you go running around the farm all day."

Anna Joy crossed her arms and sighed, which was the classic childhood demonstration of having no retort whatsoever.

"Besides," Martha continued, a little relieved her daughter was acting like a normal child. "I haven't talked to you at all about what you have been learning in school this week. I think we should use this time to talk a little bit."

"I could tell you what my new friends have been teaching me right now," the impatient girl quickly said. "I think it will make you very happy."

"Don't you think we should eat breakfast first?" Martha laughed.

Ignoring her mother's suggestion, Anna Joy said, "They said Daddy's not dead. He's been reincarnated as a tiger. As we speak he's prowling around the world destroying everything in his path. Unfortunately, he could have been made into something smarter, but he was a very bad man when he was alive."

That line caused all of the hope in Martha's heart to immediately drain. Her expression changed from amusement to fear and she began to wonder if she was going to faint.

"Mommy?" Anna Joy asked, wondering why he mother wasn't responding.

"We've talked about this, honey," Martha finally said as calmly as she could. "Daddy's an angel in heaven."

Martha became startled as her daughter burst out laughing, throwing her small head back in the process.

"You don't really buy that do you?" The girl said in a high pitched voice as soon as she got her bearings. "You know as well as I do that heaven is a lie made up by grown-ups to keep little kids from being afraid of death. You can admit it, Momma."

"Who told you that?" Martha whispered as chills traveled up and down her spine. This was not her daughter. It couldn't be. If it was, she wanted to kill the monster who stole her innocence at such a young age.

"My friends," the girl said, still laughing.

"Which friends are these?" Martha asked angrily. "Don't you know you should always believe what you know is right no matter what?"

"I know, and I am believing what's right."

"Anna Joy!" Martha shouted, ready to burst into tears. "What would your brother say about this?!"

Anna Joy furrowed her brow at the question her mother raised. However, the expression gave way to a smile and she began to slowly approach her mother.

"You're afraid," she whispered.

The strength began to drain from Martha's legs and her heart raced as her child approached in the manner of a cat preparing to pounce. However, it wasn't just the sight that frightened her, it was Anna Joy's eyes. It was almost as if each of them changed into different colors; one grey and one red. The woman began to slip backwards even as she felt the corner of her breakfast table indent the skin of her back.

"Afraid of what?" the woman quivered.

"The fact that we will soon be greater than you."

"What?"

"I will someday be like God, while you and every other stupid person in the world will become stupid animals."

Martha let her jaw drop as well as her body. On her way down, the side of the table scraped her back and she cried out in pain. As soon as her torso hit the floor, she reached her hand up to grab the edge of the table, digging her fingernails into the soft wood to drown out the pain that was shooting through her body.

iWhat monster could have taught you this?/i Martha thought, afraid to speak.

"No one taught that to me," Anna Joy laughed, as if reading her mother's mind. "I figured it out for myself. It's so obvious I'm surprised that you haven't figured it out yet."

The sound of tires driving over pebbles as well as an engine dying broke the frightening dialogue by making Anna Joy freeze. Her head whipped around toward the screen door through which she could see a pair of similar-looking children, a boy and a girl, exit the sliding door of a red minivan.

"Aaron and Amy are here early," Anna Joy said as she looked back at her mother's shivering form on the floor. She seemed frozen in place with her eyes fixed on the floor and her arms shaking under the weight of her torso. The frightened woman's heart began to ease as she saw the usual hazel return to her daughter's eyes. Unfortunately, they were accompanied by fear.

"That wasn't good," the child whimpered with a pang of regret in her voice. "But…"

Martha gulped as she heard her daughter react as if there was somebody else talking to her. Someone she couldn't hear. A tiny twinge of fear surged through Martha's body at the thought of this five-year-old child experiencing hallucinations, or worse.

"Don't tell anyone about this," Anna Joy trembled to her mother before running toward the door, almost as if in fright.

"W-why?" Martha whimpered, praying that her beloved daughter would hear her. "What has happened to you?"

The child's tiny legs froze as her hand slowly rose to grab the doorknob.

"To teach you a lesson," Anna Joy muttered in a soft monotone.

"What do you mean?" the shocked mother whimpered with tears streaming down her face.

"I…I don't know," the little girl said sadly before running out the door to meet her friends.

oOo

The brown and yellow terrain of rural Kansas always seemed to blend together when Clark took his normal route home to Smallville. It definitely meshed more than it did when he simply ran home as a teenager. Now that he could fly, the land rushed by faster and it all seemed to look the same. The reporter didn't know if it was because he was getting used to the big city or what, but he was beginning to realize why he didn't choose life in the farm over Metropolis.

The familiar land around the Kawatchi caves alerted Clark to the fact that his home was nearby, so he slowed down his speed so he could glide into his family's land without attracting attention. Rather than his usual horizontal position, he shifted to a vertical pose so he could hover and gather his thoughts that were jumbled by his now halted speed.

The man panned his vision across the landscape so he could catch the tiny glint of red his newly painted barn gave off. Clark was still getting used to Smallville by the way the crow flies, especially since he gained the ability to fly right before college graduation.

If anything, Clark saw his flying ability was a symbol. After all he had been through as a teenager, he saw his greatest gift to be the way he soared above all in his way. Even though he knew defying gravity would not solve all his problems, it was a real start in the healing process after his torture and subsequent confrontation with evil.

As he began to glide into his family's farmland, the reporter began to notice something. It had nothing to do with the three children prancing in the front yard as if they were going to take off and fly, or the fact that not a single animal was with in sight.

It was his soul.

It was stirring.

That meant only one thing, the aura of the farm was off. This realization made Clark immediately freeze where he was, about three feet off the ground behind the farmhouse, and allow his heart to skip a beat. The uneasiness in his soul only meant one thing. There was a disturbance in his family, and since ripples never created themselves, something supernatural had to have caused it.

An enemy was here.

_How is that possible?_ Clark thought to himself, fear rising in his heart. _I thought we were being protected_.

Within seconds, his advanced mind churned out ways how this enemy could have even come near the protected vicinity of the Kent farm. It had to come through someone. Someone weak. Someone…wait a minute. The reason he was here was because his mother was concerned about Anna Joy. Could the entrance have had to do with her? No, it couldn't be. His sister was a child. An innocent. How would that be possible without his own mother getting in bed with the enemy?

"Alright! Now, pretend you're a bird so that your soul can be free from the ground!" shouted a small feminine voice out in the distance. This caused the reporter to be snapped out of his thoughts so that he could finally land on the ground. He recognized that voice as his little sister's and jogged to the side of the house so that she could actually see him.

"Clark!" Anna Joy shouted as soon as their eyes met.

Even as his little sister ran toward him, the reporter's eyes were fixed on the two twins continuing to prance in the distance. Who were they? What were their parents like? What…?

Clark's thoughts immediately ceased when Anna Joy's threw her small arms affectionately around her big brother's legs. When they touched, Clark's wrists immediately began to sting.

"Aaa," Clark grunted as he grabbed his left arm.

"What's the matter, Clark?" Anna Joy whimpered in a babyish voice, squeezing tighter. "Why no hug?"

Clark shook his head in disbelief as he rolled down his sleeves to notice the scars that had long-since disappeared were reemerging. The small red circles in the middle of his wrist were a far cry from when they were holes from very large nails, but it was still the most he had seen from his wounds in a long time. He tried to examine them more thoroughly, but his little sister jumping up and down kept him from looking properly.

"Um, A.J.," the reporter said as calmly as he could. "Where's Mom?"

"In the kitchen," the little girl cooed. "Do you wanna play with us Clark? I'm teaching my friend's what I've been learning in school."

"Not right now, hon," Clark sighed as he put his large hands on his sister's shoulders in order to loosen her vice grip. "I gotta go talk to Mommy right now, and then I'll see what you've been learning."

"Aww, why can't you play now?" Anna Joy whined, reluctant to let go.

"I just can't, okay?" Clark said firmly, a little shocked his usually obedient sister was putting up such a fight.

It took a few minutes, but Anna Joy got the hint and jumped off her big brother before saying, "Mommy's a little tired today. I think that you should just let her rest."

Without another word, the little girl ran off to join her friends, and Clark was simply left with more questions. Why did his wrists hurt for the first time since they healed? Why was the farm full of foreboding energy? Was it Anna Joy?

_Oh God, please don't let that be true_, the man thought as he put his head in his hand. Clark had worked so hard with his mother to keep Anna Joy out of Clark's complicated issues. However, no matter what they did, if someone wanted to get to her, it would not be possible to stop them. Despite the fact that it was Clark's worst fear, he knew he would now have to face the possibility that his beloved little sister had now been pulled into his world, a scary place for a five-year-old.

"There's only one way to find out for sure," Clark sighed before slowly walking in the direction his sister was running. He then worked at super-speed to reach his fingers behind the buttons of his shirt and expose a silver dog tag with a simple cross engraved in the center. With an even greater speed, he whipped the piece off his neck and tossed it in his sister's direction.

What followed began the events that would once again change Clark Kent's life forever.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Tap-tap-tap-tap._

The sound of a knife chopping carrots was the only sound that echoed through the kitchen other than Martha Kent's heavy breathing. Stomach still in knots and muscles unable to stay still, she had been chopping any vegetable she could find in the refrigerator, dreading the moment her daughter would come back in the house. Her dread became even greater as a juvenile scream was heard outside.

Martha froze in place, eyes fixed on the half-chopped vegetable in front of her. She was scared to move and terrified to even look at whatever happened. Shrieks like that did not simply come out of the blue. There was always a reason.

Martha was startled out of her frozen state when the front door flew open and the screams of her young daughter filled the room. Her eyes darted over to see Clark holding the struggling child, who now had a strange dog-tag around her neck, over his shoulder. She could tell he was trying to mentally block out the blood-curling wails coming from Anna Joy as he used his foot to snag a chair from the breakfast table and slide it over to where he was standing.

"Clark!" Martha shouted, shocked she wasn't more frightened of the way Anna Joy was being handled. "What are you doing?"

Clark plopped the girl onto the chair and used both of his arms to hold Anna Joy in place with a hug-like grip. It would have been quite impossible for a man of normal strength, especially since the child seemed to have an infinite amount of flailing power, as well as a strange strength driving her.

"It burns!" shouted the little girl. "Why is it burning?"

Clark found it very hard to believe that Anna Joy could react so violently to his protection cross. That only meant one thing, and it was not good.

"Mom, throw me the salt!" Clark cried as he continued to restrain the girl.

"What? Salt?" Martha trembled, struggling to hear. "Why…?"

"Just do it!"

Martha's racing mind took a few seconds to comprehend the comment, but sure enough she raced to the cabinet in which she kept the spices and threw open the door. Using one hand to protect her ears from her daughter's screams, she used her other to feel around the multiple containers for the lone cardboard cylinder. The very nanosecond she felt the texture of the store-brand salt she always bought, she grabbed it and turned to throw it in Clark's direction. Although slightly taken aback by Clark using a rope used on one of her curtains, obviously obtained by superspeed, to keep Anna Joy down, the woman threw the can allowing her spectacled son to flawlessly catch it. Without hesitation, Clark poured a circle of salt around the chair on which his sister was tied, and quickly took the cross off her neck, immediately ceasing her struggles and giving way to exhaustion.

The silence seemed to come too quickly for a shocked Martha Kent as she stared at her daughter breathing hard and groaning from a sore body in the small wooden chair.

"What was that?" Martha whispered to Clark as she began to walk toward Anna Joy.

"Don't go near her," Clark said softly yet sternly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Clark, whyya doin' this to me?" Anna Joy huffed in a sad tone.

"I have to ask the same question," Martha said, even though something inside her said Clark was doing the right thing.

"I didn't have much of a choice," Clark sighed, nervously playing with the dog tag in his hand. "I had to see if I was right, and trust me, I didn't want to be."

Martha narrowed her eyes before saying, "What are you talking about?"

"Mommy," Anna Joy suddenly cried as tears began to brim in her eyes. "I can't move. Why can't I move?! I'm scared!"

As the little girl's sobs ran through Clark's mind, he instantly realized they were very empty. He had been around this child multiple times when she gained the usual childhood injuries such as the scraping of knees and the splinters from old wood. Her tears from those events were enough to break the hearts of even the toughest men. However, this time was different. Words could not describe the difference very well, but it was there.

"Clarkie!" Anna Joy shouted through her tears. "Help me! Save me! You always save me! Why aren't you now?!"

_Oh, this is low, even for you, _Clark thought as anger began to rage within him from the words clearly meant to break him down. Unfortunately, they seemed to be having the desired effect on his mother.

"Clark!" Martha shouted, walking right up to her son and grabbing his shirt. "Tell me what's wrong with her! Tell me right now! Why can't my daughter move?! You better not have done this to…"

"Mom, calm down," Clark said loudly. "I didn't do this. But I think I know who did. I have to ask Anna Joy some questions."

"Can't you see you've hurt her enough?!" Martha shouted, ready to cry herself.

"Mom! Get a grip! I know what I'm doing. You know I've been reading about…stuff like this since Rev. Jim, right?"

Clark was a little concerned by the look on his mother's face. Apparently, she didn't know. "Clark…why would you continue the torture of that week by reading about the people who almost killed you?"

"Mom, I don't think this is the…"

"Answer the question!"

Clark was definitely becoming perturbed that the evil in the room was beginning to inflict doubt and fear onto his hurting mother, but he knew he had to answer in order to get near Anna Joy.

"Ever since the…Rev. Jim fiasco, I've changed. Something inside of me changed. I realized it the night I was crying in your arms while you were still pregnant. I could…see things. I…I don't know how else to explain it. It scared the hell out of me, so I decided to start reading up on supernatural stuff from the point of view of the Christians, mostly 'cause they seem to have it right. I had to do it to protect myself, and considering what has happening now, I'm glad I did."

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me," Martha sighed, clearly becoming exhausted.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I grew up. I moved out. I became independent. I'll never do it again."

Martha growled at the snark her son was using, but was too tired to protest. She had to admit, she was being a little bipolar with her emotions. She knew she needed to let her son be the man he had become in the last few years, even if her supposed motherly instincts were holding her back. She reluctantly gestured for Clark to go past her and without hesitation he jogged in his sister's direction.

The man crouched down near the floor so that he was face-to-face with the child. Careful not to disturb his circle of salt, he made his way foreword and reached his arm out in order to wipe away her tears. "AJ, has anyone been telling you strange things lately?"

After jerking her head away from his hand, she scowled and said, "Why're you doing this? I didn't do anything wrong."

"Honey," Clark sighed. "I think there's something inside of you. Something that could take you over if we don't get rid of it now. If that happens…it would be very bad. You have to tell me, Love"

Anna Joy's wide eyes took a quick glance to Martha obviously panicking in the background before turning back to her brother.

"You don't love me anymore," the girl whimpered.

Clark let out an angry sigh before growling, "Try that again and I'm using the cross!" The girls eyes went wide with fear before Clark continued. "You know I love you Anna Joy! More than you can ever comprehend! It's that thing inside you I hate. I don't want it to hurt you anymore."

"Gus and Nene never hurt me like you just did."

Clark felt like he was going to faint. Gus AND Nene. Two of them? This girl was only five!

"Anna Joy," Clark said, almost as if in panic mode. "When did you first meet Gus and Nene? Did you dream about them?"

"I met them in preschool," she said softly, starting to sound proud.

"Oh god," Martha moaned before running out of the room. Clark figured it was safe to bet she was going to throw up, even though he was confused why that revelation would necessarily set it off.

"How did you meet them?" the man continued urgently. "Did you meet them through somebody?"

Clark was only met with a growl and a cutting glare he did not think young children were capable of. Though frustrated, he figured the best thing to do would be to continue drilling for answers.

"It was Gus and Nene who caused all the pain just now, honey. They're beginning to latch on to your body through you gaining their trust."

"They're my friends!" Anna Joy shouted before spitting in Clark's eye.

Without flinching, Clark used his sleeve to wipe his face before saying, "These new friends are most likely closer to Screwtape and Wormwood than Bert and Ernie."

"Huh?" the little girl said.

Clark sighed at his mature reference before saying, "C.S. Lewis wrote a popular book called _The Screwtape Letters_, in which two demons named Screwtape and Wormwood wrote letters to each other."

"Demons?!" Martha, who was obviously back in the room, shouted in shock. "How could demons get into my baby?"

"Mommy," Anna Joy whimpered, attempting to ignore Clark. "What's a demon?"

Martha looked over at her daughter and hung her head, attempting to come up with an answer fit for her young child. The thought of having to explain the evils of the world to her little girl sent chills down the mother's spine.

"They're evil monsters, Anna Joy," Clark said, trying to get ahead of Martha before she talked about something she didn't understand. "They used to be good, but a very evil person called Satan convinced them all to come with him so they could rule the world. Little did they know was that the only place they could go after they became bad was…a very horrible place where there is no love, joy, hope, anything. Some of them are able to leave that world and come to Earth where they try and cause all the trouble they can without having to get sent back. All of the ghost stories, cults, all kind of magic, and…possessions; it's all made by demons who are among us. "

As soon as Clark realized he had his sister and mother's full attention, he felt comfortable with the grittiest part of the tale. "Do you know why they want to cause all of that trouble? Because they hate you, sweetie. They hate me. They hate Mommy. They hate every human who has ever lived, simply because God loves them. Why? I don't know. Probably envy, but it doesn't do any good to feel sorry for them. They want to destroy you just because it breaks God's heart. One of them tried to destroy me and failed, and now I think it's trying to finish the job through you."

"Clark…honey…maybe…"

"Mom, please," Clark sighed without turning his head. "I think being possessed automatically makes you old enough to understand this stuff."

"P-possessed?" his mother shivered.

"Well, I guess it's not that far yet. She's inhabited, which means I have to get those things out of her soon or she will be possessed."

"Gus and Nene aren't evil monsters. They're stuffed animals. They play with me in the meadow in…"

"…your mind?" Clark interrupted. "Is that what your teacher told you?"

"What?" Anna Joy said, eyes wide. "How did you know it was my teacher?"

"I did a story on this new curriculum some California teachers are putting in public schools. They say it helps quell behavior issues, but I think it just puts school children under spells and calls it a solution. It's a new trend nowadays in teaching to go all New Age on little kids. I had a feeling Anna Joy's teacher was filling kids' minds with this stuff when she said she met her 'friends' in school. I mean, it doesn't really matter where you meet demons, but I was curious."

"Clark," Martha interjected. "You do realize you're talking to a five-year-old, right?"

"Mom, I'm talking to you, too, particularly since Anna Joy can't take herself out of whatever preschool you put her into."

Clark didn't let his mother respond before jumping to his feet and untangling his dog tag from around his large fingers.

"What is that thing, anyway?" the curious mother asked.

"I got it from a priest who came to college a few years ago. At first I took it because it was free, but later I figured it would come in handy, especially since it has The Lord's Prayer on the back."

"May I ask why that would make a difference?"

"It's straight from the Lord's mouth, which also comes in handy when you want to do this."

He immediately threw the tag on Anna Joy's lap which caused her to resume her horrifying screams. This time, Clark did not try and restrain her since the salt did the job for him. Instead, he stood up tall and pointed his finger at the girl's body before slowly shouting, "Leave…her…now!"

"No," Anna Joy screamed, seemingly acting as a puppet for whatever was inside of her.

"If you don't come out of her," Clark said faster, but louder. "I'll use the Lord's Name against you."

"You don't have the clout to use that name," Anna Joy shouted between screams. Despite the conviction, Clark was not fooled one bit.

"Okay, be that way. Demons, come out in the Name of…"

"Stop," the demon squealed through the girl. "We'll come out. Just let us go into something else...an animal on the farm perhaps."

"I don't have the authority to 'let' you do anything, pal. Ask Him what to go into. I'm sure he won't let anymore harm come to my family."

A few seconds of hesitation followed and Clark almost yelled at the monsters to go faster before his little sister's head shot back. Clark became a little concerned, but sure enough after a few more seconds, Anna Joy's head drooped forward, eliciting the only silent moment since this whole mess started.

_That was…easy, _Clark thought to himself. _I should say too easy, but demons are cowards. This is not _The Exorcist.

Clark sighed in relief before looking behind him to see how his mother was holding up. Sure enough, she was frozen in shock. Clark could not help but smile, especially since Martha only ran away from the situation once. That was nothing short of a miracle. Trust for a son and love for a daughter were powerful things.

"Is she…okay?" Martha finally uttered. "Y-you don't seem too concerned."

"Anna Joy's going to be fine," Clark said. "She didn't have to watch herself. If anything, that can be the worst position.

"I-I agree," Martha said, acknowledging her son's concern.

"C-Clark?" rasped a weak voice from behind the man. Clark let out a bigger smile at Anna Joy's seemingly quick recovery and turned his head to get a look at her.

Almost as soon as the child could raise her head, she shot out of the chair that was once her prison and ran into the waiting arms of her savior. Even as Martha ran over and threw her arms around both of them, Anna Joy's affection was still directed at the one who had given her freedom back.

"Claaark," the girl cried as her tears soaked into the man's sport coat. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"I know, AJ, I know," hew whispered to the tiny being in his arms. "It's over now, it's all over."

"What's over?" said a confused feminine voice from the doorway.

The three pairs of wet eyes lifted from their post-crisis euphoria to meet the visitor who had taken two forgotten twins by the hand.

"Chloe?" Clark asked, a little shocked.

"Clark?" Chloe said mockingly while lifting the hands of the twins and raising her eyebrows in question.

"We did forget about them didn't we?" Martha said putting her face in her hands and dreading the stories their mother would hear tonight.

"Why…exactly do you have a circle of salt around that chair?" Chloe asked in her inquisitive tone. "Is Clark practicing for the 'Smallville Witch Trials?'"

Clark was unaffected by Chloe's biting wit, and the fact she followed him from Metropolis after seemingly listening in on the phone call that brought him here. It was her hands that caught his eye. For some reason, they were shaking.


End file.
